


Choke Chain

by easton



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Bestiality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 08:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10158482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easton/pseuds/easton
Summary: "Are you afraid of my dog?"





	

“Are you afraid of my dog?”

Mitch is sitting on the couch, looking down at Matt and Jax on the floor. It’s not an uncommon arrangement, Matt dropping anything to wrestle with the dog while Mitch watched.

“I have a dog,” Mitch reminds him. “Winston is the least scary thing ever.”

Matt rolls over to face Mitch, Jax tucked under his arm. “I didn’t ask if you were afraid of _every_ dog, I asked if you’re afraid of _my_ dog.”

In the neighborhood Mitch grew up in, people didn’t get Rottweilers. Family friendly labradors or yappy little terriers were commonplace, nothing that could intimidate. Jax isn’t really that type of dog, either, but he looks the part. Not too big but strong, muscular, bulky. He’s young, too, barely more than a puppy, prone to overenthusiasm and throwing his weight around to lick, squirm closer, get hands touching where he wants to be touched.

They hadn’t gotten him fixed. Mitch thinks that’s part of the problem.

“Your dog is about as dangerous as you are, Marty. All bark and no bite,” Mitch replies, still looking past where Jax is sprawled on his back, legs sprawled and squirming, at the space by Matt’s ear.

“Uh huh.” Matt turns back to Jax, pushes him up and away, and says in a high voice, “Go get him, boy, go get him!" 

Mitch has just enough time to squawk and brace himself into before Jax leaps on him. The dog’s forelegs land on Mitch’s chest, holding him down into the couch as Jax’s wet tongue soaks his face. Mitch tries to protest, push him off, but all it gets him is a tongue in his mouth, licking over his lips and teeth, and Jax bracing even further. _God_ , he’s strong. Jax can’t be deterred until Matt himself stands up and drags him off. He must throw a ball or something because Mitch hears it bounce, and Jax’s frantic scrambling after it. 

Mitch stays curled in his corner, loose hoodie tugged low, sleeves pulled over his hands in an attempt to wipe off his face. When he uncovers his eyes again, Matt is hovering over him, face smug. “That wasn’t fair. No one likes getting jumped,” Mitch whines.

“Sure. And, hey, since you’re so unafraid of Jax, can you babysit him while I go visit Sydney this weekend?” Matt says, smug, like this was his plan all along.

Mitch’s heart thuds, pumping a wave of warmth over his body. He shouldn’t rise to the bait, should tell Matt to hire someone already.

“Fuck you. Fine,” he says, instead.

 

* * *

 

There’s not much to dogsitting, as it turns out. Jax needs to be taken on walks every couple hours, which Marner enjoys despite the bags of shit, and in the evening they go to the dog park so he can run off the extra energy.

He gets a little rough with the other dogs. Not too bad, only when they’re the same size. It’s not until the sixth time Jax tries mounting one of them that Mitch snaps out of it, apologizing and dragging him back to the apartment.

Other than that, Jax sleeps a lot, or pretends to so he can curl up against Mitch while he watches. Clingy. He takes after his owner, in that regard. It’s not as bad as Mitch thought it might be.

At one point, Mitch invites some of the guys over. They don’t do anything too wild, since Matt actually got his condo decorated and Mitch refuses to rebuy anything, but it’s fun enough. Everyone loves Jax, a lot of dog people within their ranks, and for awhile Mitch is grateful there’s someone else to roll around on the floor with him. Mitch doesn’t realize how that might be a bad thing until he starts getting tired, yawns stretching his mouth wide. He glances at the clock. It’s late enough that he doesn’t feel guilty about calling it a night and kicking everyone out. That is, until he turns around and sees Jax standing there, still wriggling with excitement.

“No. Bedtime,” Mitch tells him.

Jax barks. 

“Absolutely not.” Mitch turns towards the kitchen, Jax hot on his trail. It doesn’t take long to find the toy Matt told him about before leaving, a red cone that he could shove peanut butter into to distract the dog with for awhile. Jax shifts nervously at Mitch’s side as he find a knife and the fancy organic peanut butter. He’s not really sure how much to use, so he leans towards a lot. Then he sticks a finger in and steals a scoop for himself.

No one needs to know.

As he sucks his finger clean, he drops the toy, watches Jax jump on it, then scamper off into the living room. He takes the time to check that everything that needs to be locked is, and that Jax has everything he needs to get through the night. Matt had left his bedroom door cracked, and, assuming Jax will just sleep in there, Mitch doesn’t think twice about slipping into the guest room unnoticed. 

He goes through his normal nighttime routine, then ends up sprawled out on top of the covers in just his underwear. It’s comfortable, since Matt sets his thermostat so high, and the heat just helps lull him to sleep, makes him feel heavy and drowsy. Just as he’s about to drift of, there’s a thud at his door, followed by a high, pitiful whine. 

Mitch should ignore him. There are plenty of places for Jax to sleep, including a literal, actual human bed that’s probably better than the one Mitch is sleeping on.

Another whine, and the door shakes from scratching. Mitch caves.

Jax barrels towards the bed as soon as he’s allowed in, jumping right up onto the bed and pacing until Mitch joins him. He gets another face wash kneeling on the bed, like he’d been gone for days instead of a couple dozen minutes. The only way to get Jax to stop is by covering his face with a pillow, and then he spent a long few moments licking Mitch’s hands, too. He does get bored eventually, moving down Mitch’s side, licking at his bare thigh before settling pressed up against it.

It makes Mitch’s cock twitch. It shouldn’t, but it does. 

He’d never done anything about… this _thing_ , before. Winston has always slept with Chris, and his billet family didn’t have pets, and he never got that chance at his friends’ houses. Not that he should. But.

No one would know. It’s only him and Jax in the apartment.

Who would it really hurt?

Slowly, Mitch moves the pillow out of the way, and drops his hands down to Jax. “Hey, big guy,” Mitch says, coaxing. He gets a few excited licks in return. “Good boy, good boy…”

Jax is so enthusiastic.

Before he can think about it, Mitch pulls down his boxers. He wraps a hand around himself, still wet from Jax’s tongue, and strokes himself to full hardness. Jax is sitting up now, watching Mitch. _I’m just jerking off,_ Mitch tells himself, _Nothing else needs to happen._ Then Jax licks his hip, so close to the base of his cock, and Mitch twitches, whimpers. Precome is dripping down over his fingers, and he wonders if Jax can smell it, if it smells like sex to him.

Inside his head feels like an echo chamber, white noise vibrating between his ears too loud to think. 

Mitch holds out a trembling hand, wet fingers reaching towards Jax, still cooing nonsensical encouragements. His breath catches when Jax stands, leans forward and starts slobbering over Mitch’s hand, making it wetter, with quick, wide-tongued licks. It’s nothing, really, when he drop his hand. He doesn’t do anything to Jax, just watches as Jax’s head drops to follow his hand, except now that tongue is catching on Mitch’s cock, too.

More than just the rough-yet-wet feeling, the imagine of the dog’s fat, furry head in his lap, licking senselessly, makes Mitch feel like he’s burning up, hurtling towards the edge so quick it almost hurts. He doesn’t try to drag it out, tugs at the head, where he’s most sensitive. Jax follows, laving at Mitch’s leaking slit. It’s too much. Mitch comes with yelp over Jax’s tongue and snout.

Jax licks it all clean automatically. When Mitch takes too long to move again, overwhelmed and distracted by the hint of red poking out, Jax walks up and licks his face, too. Mitch jolts at that, pushes him away, gets up and shuts himself in the ensuite.

He stands at the sink for a long moment trying to wipe off all the tacky, drying drool, before giving up and running a shower. The water flushes Mitch’s skin pink, then red, but it’s still not enough to burn the thoughts out his head. Not enough to wash away the shame, or the desire, the still-burgeoning curiosity.

When Mitch goes back to bed, Jax is curled up near the pillow, where Mitch’s head was. The stub of his tail wags for a second, but he shows no other sign of moving. Mitch leaves him be, crawling under covers on the opposite side.

 

* * *

 

The morning dawns with another face wash, Jax gently nudging Mitch awake. Mitch pushes the dog away and rolls away, but he’s already awake. He groans, then rolls out of bed. Jax follows Mitch through pissing and brushing his teeth before starting to push his turn. Mitch goes through all the same motions as yesterday, but his mind is preoccupied. 

The thing is, this isn’t a long weekend. Matt is going to be back tomorrow morning, probably before Mitch even wakes up. Mitch has around twelve more unsupervised hours left, then who knows how long it’ll be after that until he’s alone with Jax, or any dog.

Mitch leaves around midday, telling himself it’s just for lunch. He calls for take-out at somewhere healthy and bland, gets there too early. There’s a Shopper’s next door, not a terrible place to kill some time. Mitch knew it was there. He wanders, ends up picking up a bottle of lube, then condoms, and a bag of skittles at the checkout. The person working doesn’t look at him twice, bored and unsuspicious.

Jax is thrilled when Mitch returns, especially when he pours a small cup of chicken into his dish. The Shopper’s bag gets thrown in the guest room, except for the Skittles.

It stays in his mind as he goes through the day. Nothing could happen on accident, this time.

No one comes over this time, leaving Mitch alone to occupy Jax. Jax isn’t acting any different, still energetic, demanding affection and attention. He’s always jumping on Mitch, pressing up against him.

Locks his forelegs on Mitch’s leg and humps fruitlessly, a few times.

Matt had said to just push Jax away, whenever he got to be too much.

Mitch doesn’t. He wonders if Jax is frustrated.

Nothing can happen unless Mitch _lets_ him. 

They go on a run. Or try to, but Jax doesn’t really do extended walks, so they’re back in the apartment before Mitch can get the antsiness out from under his skin. Jax falls asleep on the couch, and Mitch knows he should be thinking about dinner. Instead, he cracks open a beer in the kitchen, then another. And another.

Mitch can’t make Jax don’t do anything. If he’s just… there, and Jax does something again, that can’t be too bad. Just once, if Jax wants.

The night creeps on. Jax wakes up, and they sit and watch SportsNet. Mitch gets twitchy before Jax, even though he tells himself he’s not planning anything. If he was with a guy, he would have reached over already, gotten a hand or a mouth in his lap and worked from there. Instead, he’s waiting for a dog to make the first round, to be called upon like some sort of bitch. 

Mitch ignores the licking sounds, at first. He’s so caught up in resenting his own fantasies, the pavlovian twitch in his pants, that he nearly misses Jax’s cock jutting out of its sheath. It looks fleshy, raw, shocking against the black of Jax’s belly. Mitch can’t look away.

He snaps out of it when Jax whines, frustrated.

Prep doesn’t take as long as it probably should. One finger, pressing as much lube as possible up into him. His clothes are left in a pile by the bed.

Jax is waiting outside the bedroom again, excited as always when they’re reunited. The tip of his dick is still poking out. Mitch hesitates for a second, then doesn’t let him in, instead herding him back to the living room. He has to be careful, not to trip over Jax rubbing up against his bare legs. 

The ottoman in Matt’s living room is low to the ground. When Mitch kneels next to it, the edge of it meets hit thigh, making it easy to lean his torso onto. There’s no getting comfortable, really, his heart pounding in his head and hands as Mitch watches Jax pace around him. He worries, with a painful jolt, that Jax isn’t going to get it, even if he wants it. What’s Mitch supposed to do, then? 

“Jax. Jax,” Mitch calls him back, high and cloying. He doesn’t have to think about what next before Jax circles behind him, and a tongue touches his thigh. Mitch gasps and spreads his legs.

A prickly snout pushes between them, before a cold nose pressing against his balls before the tongue is back. Jax licks at his pulled-tight balls, then further up where he’s loose, making Mitch jerk. Then Jax huffs and pulls away, walks back around the ottoman. He tries to lick Mitch’s face, now that it’s on his level, but Mitch pushes him away, back. For a frustrating second he’s worried they’ll have to start over, but Jax goes right back to his ass, tongue sloppy and rough against the rim. Mitch chokes back his moans and doesn’t dare reach for his cock, afraid of distracting Jax again.

This time, he doesn’t have to worry for long. Jax jumps up and locks his legs around Mitch’s hips, holding him tight as he thrusts. It’s fruitless, dick sliding against Mitch’s skin. They both whine out of frustration. Mitch clenches his hands and his eyes. Of course it would have been too easy, to just lie here and take it, passive. 

Letting the last of his inhibition drain out, Mitch reaches back, gently grabs onto the dog’s dick, and lines it up against his hole. Jax whines, and, needing other guidance, punches his dick into Mitch. 

It hurts, _fuck,_ it hurts. Jax’s dick swells once it’s inside Mitch, thick and long and inhuman, and if that wasn’t enough, he fucks with deep, quick, selfish thrusts, completely apathetic to Mitch’s comfort. His grip on Mitch’s hips is strong, stronger than Mitch expected. It’s so forceful dragging Mitch back against Jax that his hind legs come up, too, scratching against Mitch’s thigh.

The thrusting doesn’t keep up. Jax thrusts deep one last time before it turns into _more_ and, fuck, that has to be his _knot_ tugging at Mitch’s rim, stretching him even further.

Mitch feels too full and red-hot, like his skin can’t hold it all in anymore. There’s nothing he can do but cry about it, and let Jax treat him like the bitch he wanted to be, tie his ass tight and sore. The knot feels like it’s throbbing inside him, and Jax is still holding onto him, panting into neck, drool drying on his back. It’s too much, and Mitch’s fingers have barely brushed his cock before he’s coming all over the ottoman, ass clenching painfully on the dog’s knot.

Jax yelps, and tugs away. Mitch tries to soothe him, slurring out, “Good boy.” Eventually he helps Jax get a leg over his back so the dog could turn around, knot still caught in Mitch. For the next handful of minutes, Mitch lies limply as Jax pants and occasionally tries to get away. Eventually, Jax tugs free, licks at Mitch’s hole a few last times before sitting and going back to lapping at himself.

Legs trembling beneath him, Mitch stands. His head feels empty, everything around him dim. He feels something drip down his thigh, and shivers. A shower feels in order.

Under the boiling current of the shower, his thigh starts to sting. He looks down and sees a long scratch down his thigh, leaking watered down blood. Once he gets out, he digs peroxide out of Matt’s medicine cabinet and dabs it clean.

After, he throws the guest room sheets into the washer. He takes fabric cleaner to the ottoman and scrubs hard. When a stain remains, he turns it until that side is facing in. In almost a trance, he cleans the rest of the apartment, too, anything that he’s touched. By the time Mitch finishes, it’s late in the night or early in the morning, and his hands and eyes are dry. Jax has fallen asleep on the couch. Mitch leaves him and returned to the guest room.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Mitch awakens to noises echoing down the hall. He has a moment of panic before remembering.

Matt is sitting at the dining table when Mitch wanders out, Jax’s head in his lap. He’s not doing anything, of course, just scratching ears and cooing hellos. He glances up when he hears Mitch, then nods at the counter. A box of Timbits and a coffee sits at the end of counter.

“Hey, buddy. Got your payment,” Matt says. 

“... Thanks. Didn’t have to,” Mitch responds. 

Matt scoffs. “Have to reward you for taking such good care of my boy. Should I be telling the rest of the boys that we found a free doggysitter?”

Mitch’s stomach twists. “I don’t know.”

Matt bends down and makes a kissy face, lets Jax lick over his face. “Oh, come on, are you still scared? You did great, Jax loves you, don’t you, boy?"

Jax wiggles with joy.


End file.
